


Drift x Perceptor 1

by Dconslut



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, M/M, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dconslut/pseuds/Dconslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sticky kink fic, Drift x Perceptor and I'm so sorry for my shitty titles, lol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drift x Perceptor 1

AU, More Than Meets The Eye (MTMTE), Drift's spotlight comic.  
Reviews appreciated, thank you!

Drift made an appreciative noise as he walked a circle around Perceptor, his hand traced across cuts and dents in the sharpshooter's armour. "There. You're not so hard to train after all." Drift's voice was a low, sensual drawl, backed by the steady hum of cooling fans and revving engines. In front of him, Perceptor was in a haze of anticipation, senses primed and waiting for his next instruction.   
Drift sat at the console, a lazy smirk played on his faceplates, optics drifted up and down his handiwork. Perceptor learned not to flinch under his partner's scrutiny, having been told -and taught on multiple occasions- that Drift thoroughly enjoyed what he saw in the scientist. Perceptor kept his optics riveted to Drift's face. Foolishly, he wondered how he looked and then he was suddenly self-conscious and terribly aware of his situation; kneeling there in the middle of Drift's room, thighs splayed wide apart, interface panels and ports wide open, scratches and dents that leaked small amounts of energon... and of course, the transfluid Percy's tongue kept sampling on his bottom lip. The situation was depraved and he felt shame and embarrassment ride through him like a wave, but he resisted the urge to close his legs and look away. 

The swordmech watched the scientist from across the room as he licked transfluid off his lips, and he stifled a groan. Percy was his perfect wet dream; soft voice and gentle demeanor beneath many, many layers of cold intelligence, fortitude and no small amount of lonliness. Drift was amazed at what Perceptor let himself be put through. Drift was amazed at himself at how he constantly tried Percy's limits. A part of him knew this was sick; but there was no denying how it made Drift feel to have such control; delicious and wanton utterly arousing... It felt so good to let go on a mech who could take it physically, but not quite mentally. Sick, sick, sick...

There it was; a flick of a finger, beckoning Percy forward. Head bowed, he crawled on hands and knees toward Drift, placing his face right between the other mech's legs. An energon cube was there, dropped from Drift's hand. The cube cracked and the fluid leaked into a small puddle on the chair. Tilting his head, Perceptor licked at the puddle, his tongue peeking out from his lips in careful measured swipes. Drift's breathing got heavier. When the puddle was gone, Perceptor's tongue skirted the edge of Drift's interface panel, and then up along the thick hard spike. He lifted himself up so he could wrap his lips around the tip, and instead missed his target as rough hands seized him and hauled him up off the floor and bringing him optic to optic with Drift. 

The swordmech gritted his teeth in an effort to control himself. He arranged Perceptor on his lap, pulling his legs on either side of his hips, and bringing his spike to rub against scientist's valve, but not penetrating. Perceptor moaned and shivered as sensors registered the contact. 

"Not yet." Drift growled, and brought Perceptor's lips to his in a hungry kiss. They remained like that for some time, lips pressed together, aggressively kissing and rocking against each other. Oh it was so, so good; Percy's arousal kept building and building. He used careful swipes of his tongue and a slow, pumping motion of his hips to convey what he wanted and he knew for a fact Drift got the message. But his partner was holding back, probably trying to decide how he wanted to interface with Perceptor. 

"What do you think Percy?" Drift murmured against his partner's neck cables. "Hard and fast? Slow and sensual? Should I frag you on your back or on your stomach? Or should I make you swallow my spike again?"

"I don't care." Percy breathed, rolling his hips against Drift, the swordmech's incredibly hot and hard spike sliding wonderfully against his valve. "Please, just make me overload." The words were said so sweetly with so much need, to Drift's audials it was just... yummy.

Drift carefully lowered them to the floor and pushed Perceptor onto his stomach. Even after all their time together, he could never quite tell which position Perceptor liked best, he made such a racket every time. Sure, powerful hands stroked along Perceptor's sides, over his hips, along his thighs and ended up on the sniper's aft. He pulled Perceptor's aft up, giving himself a perfect view of that twitchy, dripping valve. He blew across the opening, utterly pleased at how Perceptor reacted by arching his backstrut and leaning down, the posture wanton and submissive. 

Steeling himself, Drift traced his tongue against the valve's rim, and dipped inside as far as it would go, lapping up lubricant. The tip of his tonue brushed across fully charged sensors, the crackle of the charge almost painful against the invading appendage.

Perceptor wailed brokenly in frustration. "Please, just frag me." He said desperately, and canted his hips, breathless and uncaring at the words that spilled from his mouth. "Please....I don't want you to stretch me... make it hurt, Deadlock, please, it's so good when you make it hurt."

Drift very nearly came when Perceptor called him by his old designation. His chuckle was also partly a moan. "Your pillow talk's the best, Percy." He gave a final, torturous lick and straightened himself. He hadn't realized how pressurized his spike was until he pushed the tip against Perceptor's valve and sensors fired hard across Drift's sensory net, almost knocking him down. He drew in a ragged intake of air and pushed himself, inch by inch into Perceptor's eager frame until he was fully seated. The scientist didn't wait a nanoclick before he spread his knees wider and pushed himself backward. Drift's spike held way too much pressure to allow a rhythmic pace and the rolling of Perceptor's hips brought too much pleasure and soon he was slamming himself against his lover. 

"What do you say to the mech who's making you feel this good?" Drift growled, urgent in his thrusting. The valve surrounding his spike was hot and wet and gripped him relentlessly.

"Hnnghh, Deadlock, thank you, thank you, th-ank yo-u, aah, aah, aah!..." Perceptor's litany lost all coherence as the pounding spike in him overstimulated sensors and his frame suddenly flooded with a charge so intense he was screaming. Or was that Drift? 

Hot transfluid flowed into Perceptor, the sound messy and the feeling of it lovely. He was dimly aware that as is own overload passed, his lover was still pulling him back by the hips, growling and cursing him and calling him 'Autobot whore,' before he stiffened as overload hit him. Perceptor remained still, his valve sensors now no longer sensitive from retaining the charge but certainly sore. His lover's arms soon gave out and he pretty much landed on top of Perceptor, intakes, vents and fans roaring almost continuously. 

They were like that for a while, lying together on the floor, quiet and entangled. Unlike Drift, however, Perceptor refused to sleep just anywhere, even after a processor-stalling overload. He shifted until most of him was out from underneath Drift, who continued to lay there face down. 

"Drift?" Perceptor scooted closer to the swordsmech and reverently kissed a finial. "Don't you dare fall into recharge on the floor, I'm not carrying you to the berth." 

Drift grunted, and rolled himself onto his back. "I think I sprained something." 

"You're fine." Perceptor said and dropped a chaste kiss on the corner of Drift's mouth. Drift peered at Percy's face and the look he saw there was enough to make him consider another round. Perceptor breathed softly, not totally off the wave of overload, systems thrumming in exhaustion and intense pleasure and the smile was flirty and satisfied, completely open and for Drift alone to see. Drift just lay there, admiring. 

Eventually, Perceptor pushed himself to his feet slowly, his limbs aching pleasantly and shaking. He extended a hand to Drift, who let himself be pulled up off the floor. The momentum brought him face to face with Perceptor and he landed a hot, possessive kiss on the scientist and backed him toward the berth.


End file.
